


loving the storm that sways her

by fullmetalruby



Series: febslash fembruary [9]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, F/F, Femslash February 2021
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29330169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullmetalruby/pseuds/fullmetalruby
Summary: For once in his life. Roy is helpful, and in the process Riza scores a date with the cutie at the abjuration shop.[Femslash February 2021 | Day 9 | Urban Fantasy]
Relationships: Olivier Mira Armstrong/Riza Hawkeye
Series: febslash fembruary [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139714
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	loving the storm that sways her

**Author's Note:**

> fsf!!! day 9 babey!!! using tim's prompt list.
> 
> title from "The Answer" by Sara Teasdale

The urge to kick over the pile is strong. Their little venture has been cultivating a stack of files for years, and it’s almost as tall as her now. It would be  _ so  _ satisfying.

“Please don’t,” Roy asks from his desk, for once the voice of reason. His nose is buried in what Riza thinks is spell sheets, but not looking at her has never stopped Roy from knowing what she’s thinking.

It’s just them in the office for the moment. Fuery has the day off, Falman is out doing reconnaissance, Breda is meeting with a contact, and Havoc stepped out for a cigarette two hours ago. One of them should go check on him, but Riza has paperwork to do that’s more important than whether Havoc is or isn’t dead in the alleyway out back. Who knew that running a semi-legal magic special ops team would mean filling out so many forms?

Roy screws up his nose at his papers. He’s an evoker by training, the only mage on their team, but a lifetime of exposure lets Riza know that none of the sigil circles on his desk are evocation. “Don’t overstep your bounds, sir.” She leaves it up to him what she’s talking about. He starts scribbling more recognizable sigils.

As much as Riza wants it to, silence does  _ not  _ overtake the office when she’s done talking. There are cars going off on the street below their window, and the dentist’s office above them is apparently having a difficult customer. Roy is proving to have trouble with his new sigils as well, and Riza suspects that it’s less to do with the sigils themselves and more to do with the noise. He doesn’t do well with background noise like this and he never has.

A car backfires. Roy jolts to his feet, inhaling sharply and sparking the flint and steel fillings in his teeth. His chair clatters to the floor behind him. Riza’s hand twitches for her sidearm. She doesn’t move so long as he doesn’t.

He breathes heavily, his stare somewhere else, for several agonizing minutes. She knows better than to approach him when he’s like this.

_ If I ever get like that _ , he’d whispered to her, his face tucked into the crook of her neck in a burned-out building, both of their heads full of the wild-eyed and magic-cracked spellcasters out there,  _ put a bullet between my eyes. Promise me, Riza _ . He’d never called her ‘Riza’ before-- it was always ‘Miss Hawkeye’-- and he never called her that after, either. She was ‘Lieutenant’, or after they left the service, just “Hawkeye’.

“Go home, sir. I’ll go to get those silence spells replaced.”

* * *

A quick Google search shows that the best abjuration shop in the district is Armstrong’s Emporium, and Riza sees Roy back to their apartment (and no, it is not awkward to share an apartment with a man who is simultaneously her best friend, ex-crush, and someone that she is incapable of calling anything but ‘sir’) before heading to the shop.

The inside is… well, ‘opulent’ isn’t enough to describe it. Everything from the oak baseboards to the crystal (because it glitters too much to be glass) chandelier sparkles in the firelight-- all the candles and torches have to be a fire hazard, right?-- illuminating every corner of the room. Spells inscribed on wood, stone, metal, and paper, all of varying colors and qualities, hang from racks and lie on tables. Spell components from dried butterfly wings to powdered mermaid scales are all arranged neatly into little boxes that easily fill half the space. A massive tapestry of a western dragon-- the patron animal of abjuration-- takes up the back wall.

But the most beautiful part of the whole thing? The woman behind the counter.

Something about her is familiar, but more importantly she’s gorgeous. Her hair, long enough to disappear under the counter, is pale gold, and her eyes are very, very blue. Her pink lips are curled into a mean glower. She’s wearing a white button-down shirt, but Riza can see that the sleeves are straining around her biceps.

“Welcome to Armstrong’s. Do you need any help today?” The woman’s voice is deep and harsh. 

_ Ah, _ Riza thinks.  _ I’ve had this dream _ . She clears her throat. “Yes, thank you. Do you have any silencing spells?”

The woman comes around the front of the counter. Riza is taller than her, but she walks with such an air of superiority that just being in the woman’s presence makes her want to stand at attention. “For what purpose?”

“Soundproofing an office. The spells that came with the lease--”

The woman waves her hand. “Those things are crap. You’ll want one of these.” She leads Riza to a display of spells. They’re mostly done in shades of red, on fabric and on stained wood, but there are a few on white sticker paper as well. “The wood will last the longest.”

“And after the wood? My coworker is a fire evoker. Wood is a bad idea.”

“Stamped metal. We’re out of silencing spells on metal at the moment. But I can place an order for you.” Custom orders seem to be more of this place’s specialty, if the blanks behind the counter are anything to go by. That combined with the woman’s ease at which she suggests a custom spell. “Though if your  _ coworker _ is who I think he is, metal will melt too easily. Stone, then.” 

The woman passes her one of the smaller slabs of carved stone. It’s black and glassy. The etchings almost don’t show up, but when Riza tilts it the light catches in the grooves. “It’s beautiful work.” She looks back to the woman.

“ _ Tch _ . Don’t compliment me. I didn’t make it. That would be Alex.”

Puzzle pieces fit together in Riza’s head, and ‘Alex’ completes the picture. “Major Alex Armstrong? Seven feet tall? Loud?”

“Correct.”

“You must be Olivier, then. I’ve heard of you.” She might also be Catherine, Amue, or Strongine, but Major Armstrong had always spoken of his various sisters  _ very _ differently, and how did the Major describe Olivier?  _ A force of nature trapped in a diminutive human form _ . “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir.”

Major General Armstrong regards her with something delicious in her eye. “If you worked that closely with Alex, and work with a fire evoker, you must be Lieutenant Hawkeye.” There’s the full-body examination again. “I’ve heard good things from Warrant Officer Falman.”

“Thank you, General.”

“Just Olivier will do. I’m on leave.”

“Olivier, then. Do you have any evocation paper?” She rolls the name around in her mouth while Olivier leads her to the right paper. Being from a line like the Armstrongs, there was no way that their eldest daughter would be anything but devastatingly beautiful, and her name lives up to that. “I remember coming back after my discharge and finding the city different than I left it. How are you holding up?”

“Nothing that I can’t handle. All the things I need are still in the same place. Except the butcher. Damn place shut down while I was gone.”

Riza picks up a few packets of the nicer evocation paper, an argument between Roy and Edward about the differences between evocation and transmutation paper and the varying qualities of each echoing in her ears. “I know a good one. Butcher. I can give you the address.” Falman’s roommate is a butcher. Riza knows the place is clean.

“Thank you.”

Olivier rings Riza up for the silencing spells-- some for the office and some for the apartment. If they’re running out in one, they’re probably worth replacing in the other as well-- and the paper and Riza reminds herself to make Roy buy groceries for the next few weeks.

“Mind showing me the way, instead?” Olivier smirks at her over the counter. Riza knows she’s in trouble. She swallows. Hard. Olivier  _ has _ to know what that smirk can do.

“It would be my pleasure,  _ Olivier _ .”

**Author's Note:**

> i dont know how to end things pt 8547985028 electric boogaloo
> 
> check me out on tumblr @fullmetalruby


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